Do It Slowly
by ProtoChan
Summary: Summary: Raising a baby is hard, but it's so much easier when you have family around to help you. Henry knows that, but an happenstance between himself, Lucy, and Hook shows him just how much that rings true.


**Rating: K - Warning: Fluff Overload!**

 **Summary: Raising a baby is hard, but it's so much easier when you have family around to help you. Henry knows that, but an happenstance between himself, Lucy, and Hook shows him just how much that rings true.**

 **A/N: Happy Birthday,** **black-wolf066** **! Here's your present! You're seriously one of my best Tumblr pals and I hope you have an AMAZING 25th birthday!**

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Some say that the sound of a crying infant is biologically the most annoying sound in the world.

If Henry Mills could've said anything on the matter, it would've been to praise that sentiment for its accuracy.

"Wahhhhhhh!" Lucy wailed, as loud and free as a banshee. "Wahhhhhhhhh!" Swaddled in her blanket, she wriggled as best as she could, threatening to do her father's hard work from just five minutes ago.

"Lucy, Lucy," Henry whined, cradling his daughter. "Please be quiet."

Lucy's response had been not only to continue, but got - as Henry would later swear it - even louder.

"WAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

It had been five days since Lucy was born. Damn, Regina had said that Henry had been the most beautiful baby ever when she first met him, but Lucy must've broken the mold in that regard the moment she came into the world. Perfect was a woeful description of her, for everything Henry continued to discover about Lucy continued to utterly astonish him and gave him yet another reason to love her. She was the perfect amalgamation of both he and Ella, and the two had done plenty of bickering in the quiet space when Lucy was napping over who she resembled more.

However, it seemed that the quality she had inherited the most notably was said bickering.

With the world itself as her opponent.

And the worst victim - her parents' eardrums.

Henry had told Ella to get some much needed rest after three straight days awake. The ensuing discussion had lead to even more bickering though thankfully, with his mother's help, it had been curbed and Ella had been persuaded to take the afternoon off. That left Henry to deal with his crying child alone for the first time, and he was at an absolute loss.

She wasn't hungry, having been fed just over an hour ago and her diaper was spotless.

So what was the problem?

Lucy, it appeared, wouldn't rest until whatever it is was properly dealt with.

That or when her cries at last slaughtered Henry's ability to hear once and for all.

For now though, her bellows simply continued, no doubt echoing through the stone halls around him.

Thank God Ella was on the opposite end of the castle, and in a soundproofed room, no less courtesy of Regina.

"Lucy," Henry groaned, helplessly. "You're crying up a storm here."

"What's this about a storm?" Henry pulled Lucy closer to him, startled. No one had come by the room since Lucy had started crying, presumably either busy with their own tasks, unaware of the crying at all, or aware but electing to let her father soothe her. Because of that, Henry was hardly expecting company.

That said, when he turned around only to see Hook walking through the door to Lucy's nursery, he couldn't help but let out a relieved smile.

"Oh, hey Hook," Henry said, turning to greet his friend before turning his eyes back to Lucy. "What brings you by?"

Henry had been hoping to spend a little one-on-one time with Hook, but the exact reason why - apart from general friendliness - currently escaped him, likely due to his lamenting little lady.

Instead of answering the question, Hook examined Lucy, who was still crying in Henry's arms. "Is this the storm you were talking about?" Hook asked - clearly rhetorically, with a tsk for added measure. "Shame on you, Henry. The poor little lass. Let's have a look at you." At Hook's prompt, Henry lowered Lucy so that his friend could better see her. "Such a lovely lady," Hook cooed before turning back up to Henry. "And how are you faring, father?" That last word was delivered with Hook's signature snark in spades, but a level of admiration too. Before Henry could say anything, Lucy answered that question with another heaping helping of sobs.

Henry, now even more beside himself before, looked helplessly at his friend. "How did you do it? With Alice?"

Hook smirked. "And your mother said I've nothing to offer you in terms of parental advice," he scoffed teasingly.

"She also thinks chocolate donuts are better than chocolate frosted donuts," Henry teased. At the expected confused look on Hook's face, Henry - resigned to his own joke's apparent obscurity in this realm - waved a dismissive hand from below Lucy. "Never mind. In any case. I get it. I'm not stuck in a tower or anything, but you've got to have some tips. You took care of Alice and she came out fine."

Another smirk crossed Hook's face. "Fine? That's a compliment from you," Hook pointed out. It had been something Hook teased Henry about mercilessly since Henry once recounted the incident to his friend. "So you forgive her for drugging you and tying you up that one evening?"

Henry shrugged and gave a smirk of his own. "I guess she had her reasons." An acknowledging smile was exchanged between the two of them.

"The one tying you up these days is your wife, right?" Henry rolled his eyes. Of course, Hook had to go there. He was about to further retort when Lucy started crying again.

"Anyway," Henry said. "Any help would be great."

"Have you a lullaby?"

Henry scrunched his face. Of the list of ways he expected Hook to help, suggesting a lullaby definitely wasn't at the top of it.

"A lullaby?"

"Am I speaking Greek here?" Hook snarked. "Yes, a lullaby."

"Why do I need a lullaby?"

"Because she's tired."

"Tired?" Henry asked, flooded with exasperation. The increase in his voice's volume couldn't be helped, for what Hook had just suggested was hard to believe to say the least.

Just how the hell was Lucy tired?

"Yes, Henry. She's tired. But she can't fall asleep, so you need to help her."

"By singing?"

"The repetitive nature of your questions are getting old, mate." Hook sighed, but patiently - with albeit not especially well masked exasperation of his own - went on. "But yes, Henry," he repeated. "You need to sing to her."

Henry stifled a groan.

That posed a problem.

"Hook, I'm not a good singer," he argued.

"Well I can't do it," Hook said with a shrug, "so it must be you to serenade this fine young lady."

"Why not? I've heard you before, and you're not bad."

It was true. On long missions together, Hook would sometimes take to humming or whistling, and occasionally, and a worded note or two would escape him between bouts of humming. And when Henry factored in his stepfather - who he had heard sing karaoke before - Hook should indeed be quite talented.

So what was the problem?

Hook's answer was immediate and put any further debate on the matter to bed.

"Because you're her father. No one else could do it even half as well." The response was simple, and said as if the notion was as obvious as the fact that their sky was blue and was delivered with a pointed, yet proud grin. Henry, for the first time since Lucy started crying, smiled back. "Now sing."

Henry, nodding, took a deep breath and began. Despite his overall feelings towards his own singing voice, he actually did have a song in mind. His mother sang it to him when he was a baby, and one night - when he was much older - she confessed that it was one of her favorite songs created in The Land Without Magic.

"Earth Angel, Earth Angel. Will you be mi-ine?"

"Oy, mate!" Hook cried, interrupting him before he could go any further.

A grimace overtook Henry's features. He knew he shouldn't have tried singing. Not only did Hook stop him, but Lucy was still crying just as hard as she was before he started.

"I told you I was awful at this, Hook."

"No!" Hook protested, his voice hushed. "Your singing was fine, but you were singing far too loud. Look at her little ears. You need to do it softly," he went on suggest. With his hook, he gestured towards Lucy. "Now try again."

Henry gazed at his young daughter, then back to Hook, then back to her. It was then that he saw the need in her eyes. It was his job to absolve her of that need, and he hadn't done a good job of that so far.

But not anymore.

With a voice now barely above a whisper, he began his tune once more.

"Earth Angel, Earth Angel. Will you be mi-ine?"

"My darling de-a-ar. Love you for all time."

In a most amazing instant, Lucy's cries came to a stop. Hook encouraged him to keep going.

"I'm just a fo-o-ol. A fool in love with yo-o-ou."

"Earth Angel, Earth Angel. The one I ado-ore."

"Love you forever, and e-ever mo-ore."

What happened after he finished that line was even better than what happened before.

Lucy began to close her eyes.

"I'm just a fo-o-ol. A fool in love with yo-o-ou."

A few second later, Henry was able to feel Lucy succumb to sleep through the blanket.

In that moment, Henry felt pain in his face, for he was smiling so hard it hurt.

But he could hardly find it in himself to care, for he was far too proud of what just transpired.

He had done it.

He had actually sang his daughter's tears away, and now she was asleep in his arms.

Henry knew he should put Lucy in her crib but for all his strength, he just couldn't. Right now, there was such a delicate peace between them, and Henry found it just too much to bring it to a close. He had a feeling that Lucy was forever to be his greater calling - that she what was his story was alway meant to be. She - even silent and drooling slightly - was an enigma and a spectacle, but most importantly, she was his.

And now she was sound asleep, thanks to him.

And thanks to Hook too, now that he mentioned it.

Hook stood about three feet away, and his gaze was set squarely on Lucy. There was an expression on his face and Henry couldn't help but admire how closely it resembled his own.

It was so clear.

He was just as in love with Lucy as Henry, Ella, and Regina were.

Suddenly, Henry was struck with a thought.

"You haven't held her, have you?" Hook, though caught off guard, gave his answer quickly enough - and in his usual fashion, to boot, albeit with a softer voice.

"And risk facing her mother's wrath? Or your mother's, for that matter? Not a chance."

Henry smiled and inched Lucy, still in his arms, closer to his friend.

"It's just us," he said. "You can, if you want to." Henry saw Hook's jaw slacken from that comment.

"I'd love to," Hook softly replied. And slowly, the baby was placed into Hook's arms. His arms immediately felt cold without Lucy in them, but the utter delight on Hook's face as he settled into his holding position was worth the chill several times over. It was impossible to interpret exactly what Hook was thinking based off his expressions alone, but Henry was willing to wager that Lucy was to become - more so than all the gold and silver in the realms - one of Hook's fondest treasures.

"She's beautiful," Hook at last commented after an extended silence.

"She really is."

"You and Ella made a miracle here."

"We did. I don't even feel like being modest about that." Henry put a lot of pride into that statement. Is this what it was like - being one of those parent who thought that their child was the best in the world?

Henry sure thought so. As far as he was concerned, Lucy could best any baby in any realm.

"And you shouldn't. I never thought I'd ever see a girl that could even hope of rivaling my Alice, but Lucy…she's a force to be reckoned with indeed." Lucy suddenly began to start shifting in her sleep, but Hook was quick with his response, gently rocking his arms back and forth until her slumber-threatening movements ceased altogether.

Damn, he was good.

And Henry knew that the rest of his family agreed, as bad as they were about showing it.

"You know," he said. "Mom doesn't think you'd be bad with her. Neither does Ella."

"Aye," Hook replied, as good-natured as always. "I know better than most the signs of an overprotective parent."

"You should've seen Mom when I was ten." Hook and Henry then exchanged a laugh, but cut it off early when Lucy started squirming again. Before anything could come of it thought, Hook came in with his rocking arms. "But she trusts you and she cares about you."

"She'll come around," Hook said. There was a pause. "To answer your earlier question - as to how I raised Alice, it was -"

"Love, right?" Henry responded, cutting him off.

"Your family's rubbed off on you, haven't they?" Hook teased. "Well, yes. It was definitely my love for Alice that handled a large part of the parenting, but it was the love of others too that got me through things."

"Oh?"

"Those in the village closest to the tower who heard of my plight gave me discounts on food, books, and clothing. They made decorations and little toys for Alice around the holidays and advice on how to care for an infant. I'd have never raised Alice to be as happy as she was without their help." There was so much to say on what Hook had just told Henry. He'd never heard that part of Alice's upbringing. It made sense in hindsight - the fact that the Hook that he met last year acclimated to their group rather easily for a guy who'd been on his own for so long now seemed like a big sign of that - but it was unexpected too.

But more than that, Henry knew the point of Hook's story was to remind Henry that he was hardly doing this task alone.

"And I have that too," Henry pointed out.

"In spades, my boy. You've a whole family - a whole kingdom, even - to help bring up Lucy. We're all here, and we'll not let one day pass where Lucy sleeps not knowing that she's adored everywhere she goes."

It was just then that Henry remembered something, something he was now hitting himself over the head because he forgot. In all of the hubbub over quieting Lucy, a decision involving Hook that he and Ella had recently agreed upon fell between the cracks.

However, that had changed, and Henry wasn't about to waste a second more leaving Hook in the dark.

"Maybe faster than you think," he said.

Immediately, Hook's eyes darted from Lucy back to him.

"Huh?"

"Mom. She'll come around faster than you think."

Hook raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm glad you came here," Henry said, pointedly dodging the question. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What's that, lad?"

"Lucy's got a fairy godmother, and Ella's going to ask Tiana to be her…godmother-godmother." Hook let loose a snicker. "But she needs a godfather too."

The snickering instantly stopped.

For a moment, all was quiet as Hook looked at Henry.

He was speechless, and Henry could only recount a handful of times that either Hook had ever been speechless.

"You want me to be her godfather?" Hook uttered, finally.

Henry smiled. "No one else could even do it half as well."

Hook mirrored his expression, and as one arm stayed holding Lucy, the other looped around Henry and held him tightly.

Raising Lucy was going to be the next great adventure of Henry's life, and Henry himself was well aware of that fact. However, he was just as aware that he was perfectly equipped for it, for he had the love of his family, both old and new, to take the journey with him.


End file.
